Superiority and Sarcasm
by Random Ravenclaw91
Summary: The last thing Draco expects to find when he escapes his parents’ party is another deserter. He also doesn’t expect her to be quite so sarcastic, arrogant, or — well — so much like him.


"Escaping from the party too, are you?" came a voice from behind me as I shut the library door as quietly as possible. I stiffened instantly at the sound of that quiet, feminine, almost silky voice. It was one I didn't recognise, and — more than anything else — I didn't want to be sent back into that bloody party.

"As if I give a damn what you think," I said coldly, and I turned around. I met clear blue and very large eyes. There was something in her face that looked familiar, but I figured it had to be a family resemblance.

"I see that the talk about your lovely personality isn't a myth." She looked particularly smug, and that annoyed me. I was the one who was supposed to be smirking and superior, not her. "But really, Malfoy, isn't this _your_ family's party? Shouldn't you be out there bowing and pretending like you actually care?"

Ignoring all of her comments, I snapped, "And just who the hell are you?"

She stood up from where she was sitting comfortably on the sofa. I noticed that she had taken off her shoes, and her hair didn't look as proper as most of the women out there had. But she bowed to me formally, and spoke in a voice that was very unlike the other. "Astoria Greengrass, my dearest Draco Malfoy."

Greengrass — I did recognise that name. "Was it your sister in my class?"

She rolled her eyes and nodded, seating herself back down on the sofa, staring at me unflinchingly.

Daphne Greengrass was someone you could never forget. She seemed to spill over with happiness, though she seemed to be short quite a few brain cells. From the way Astoria's face looked, it seemed obvious that the she disliked her sister, and I could see why.

Astoria seemed darker, and far more arrogant. It was as though they were opposites.

"Believe me, I am nothing like my sister," she commented.

"Yes, I believe Daphne is currently out enjoying the party my mother has spent weeks planning, whereas you broke into my father's library in an attempt to escape." I sat down on the chair across from her, and for once I felt as though I was allowed to act more casual.

"I think it's worse that you're the one who left your own family's party. They'll notice your esteemed absence far before mine," she said dryly, and picked the book she had been reading. Curling up, she began to read, completely ignoring me.

I didn't enjoy the feeling. "They'll probably notice the difference in feeling, now that the person who wants to kill them all is gone."

"Referring to yourself?"

"No — to the angry Greengrass girl."

"Angry?" she snapped. She tilted her head upward, and there was something about how her nose was slightly turned up, or maybe the way her chin came almost to a point, that made her look even more arrogant. It made me want to laugh.

"Perhaps arrogant is the better word."

One of her eyebrows jutted upward as she heard. "And you? I don't exactly see the smirk coming off your face."

I rolled my eyes but said nothing more about it. "Why did you leave my parents' party?"

"Why did you leave your own party?" she snapped in response.

"If I answer, will you answer?" Even the conversation felt like bargaining. I was getting no where with this girl. Her sister, from the little I remembered of her, could talk and talk. It wasn't right for siblings to be different in every way — then you never knew what to expect.

"I suppose, Mr. Malfoy." The way she addressed me felt like an insult.

"Because these parties are _annoying_, aren't they? I always feel like I'm in a show, or being sold to the highest bidder. It isn't too secretive that my parents are trying to find someone for me. As if I can't do that myself."

"Well, considering you're in hiding, being antisocial isn't exactly high on the list of attributes most of these pureblood women want in their future husband. Perhaps you do need all the help you can get."

"Aren't you charming?" I commented. "But you never answered why you left the party."

"I don't like parties," she said. "I'm not a fan of people in general."

Well, we did have something in common, didn't we? "Not interested in vying for my hand?"

"I highly doubt it's worth the trouble."

It felt like the first time I couldn't quite figure someone out. Normally I didn't even care — not that I cared this time either, of course — but there was really nothing else to do except talk to her. I didn't like her or enjoy her company.

"How old are you?" I asked.

"Eighteen." She didn't even look at me; her eyes glanced over the pages of the book she was reading, and every so often she flipped to the next one. Everything she did looked like it was done in a bored, unconcerned way.

That was three years younger than me, but apparently she didn't care enough to ask. "Out of Hogwarts?"

"Last summer," she answered, then glanced out the window. She squinted as if to try to see something. Her face looked strange as she did so; it held a sort of excited emotion. But then it fell back into its calm lines and she turned her gaze on me. "And, in preparation for the next question you're going to ask, I don't have a job yet. My parents find it uncouth, so I'm going to wait until I move out."

"You seem like the type who would move out regardless."

"They won't give me any money if I just move out without a reason, so I'm staying. I'm rather fond of being rich."

Who wasn't?

"What job do you want to have?" I questioned.

"Oh, anything in the Ministry — I don't really care what… And, anyway, I don't see why you would care about any of this. Why are you asking?"

"There's nothing better to do than listen to you talk."

"My life story is even less interesting than yours, I'm sure. After all, you have that whole sob-story about becoming a Death Eater. Perhaps someday I'll ask you about it." She said it so casually it so easily could have been an insult, but it didn't seem that way, somehow. It seemed more like she was merely stating a fact, and not adding any personal feelings or judgment come into it.

I had no idea how to respond.

"So any of those idiots catch your eye?" she questioned, gesturing to the door.

"Maybe if I suddenly become equally stupid and annoying I wouldn't mind one of them."

She gave no response: I wondered why she even asked in the first place. Then her gaze flickered back to the window, and just for a moment, her eyes brightened and a smile flickered across her face. It was such an abrupt change; I wanted to see it again. I didn't know when or how it happened, but at some point during our conversation, I had actually started to like Astoria Greengrass.

I looked out the window too, in order to figure out what had happened. There was no real change I could see, except… the snow? Did the snow make her happy?"

I looked back at her, and her face was coloured, and didn't look so serious.

"Want to go outside?" I asked, unable to stop smirking.

She said nothing. Because of the lack of violent response, I figured that was as close to a yes as I would get.

I stood abruptly and walked to the door, thinking that she would follow me. When she didn't, I snapped, "Hurry the hell up, Greengrass. We have to get out of here before anyone sees us and drags us back to that bloody party, right?"

She sat sullenly in her place. "Why should you want to come along? And, besides, you think you know me so well that you think I _want_ to be dragged outside into the cold?"

I rolled my eyes. "I can tell you want to — I don't see why you have to deny everything. I can tell by the way you looked outside that you like the snow. Now, do you really want to miss the first snow of the year? Or would you rather sit around arguing with me?"

"Arguing isn't quite as terrible as I thought," she muttered under her breath; I smirked. I strode over to her and grabbed her hands, pulling her to her feet. "Stop!" she shrieked. "Don't touch me!"

I couldn't help but laugh; annoying her was endlessly entertaining. I kept one hand around hers, and she stopped complaining. We ran down the hallway as quietly as possible. We could hear the party in the ballroom, but didn't go into it and hoped that no one would come into the hallway. We reached the entryway, and I threw her a coat, not taking the time to find her own. She didn't seem to mind and slipped it one regardless. After putting my own on, we were out the door.

We stood in front of the door, our hands still clasped; for some reason, neither of us pulled away. We just stared out into the dark night invaded by perfect flakes of snow that fell softly to the ground. I didn't think they would stick, but it was still a nice sight.

"When the Dark Lord was here, I never thought I would be able to find any beauty or joy in this house again. It's been about three years, but I still feel that way sometimes." I didn't know what in the world made me say that. Perhaps it was the way she was just standing there, and looked so unguarded. Maybe, for some reason, I actually thought she would understand.

"This is beautiful, though, isn't it?" she said softly, her voice very different from

"Yes."

Talking to her wasn't too bad. After all, she didn't dwell on topics that we would be better off not discussing. But for some reason I had the knowledge that she truly was listening, not matter how short her responses were.

Her cheeks were red from the cold, but she looked happy, even though her face was devoid of a smile. I took my scarf off on a whim and draped it around her shoulders. She turned slowly to me, one eyebrow raised. "Don't think you can charm me," she warned, and pulled her hand from mine for the first time.

"I think I already have," I answered, trying to hold back a laugh.

"Oh really?" she challenged, her eyes narrowing.

I was about to formulate a response when she — without any warning at all — shoved me as hard as she could. I found myself falling to the ground, but as I did, I managed to grab her hands and pull her down with me.

I landed flat on my back, while she was crouched above me, breathing harshly. "What the hell did you do that for?" she snapped.

"I should ask the same to you!" I exclaimed.

"Because you nearly tore my arms out of their sockets earlier — and your arrogance was annoying me."

I wanted to get up, but it didn't look like she was budging from her place. Her hair fell around her face, and it nearly touched me.

"Well, I didn't want to go down alone," I said dryly. "I figured I might as well take you with me."

"Oh really?" she said again.

"You really aren't too bad, you know? Just the attitude thing."

"I don't think you're really one to criticise."

I smirked and reached my hand upward until it just brushed against her hair. I was pleased that her face turned crimson by that point, and not just from the cold. My fingers raised farther until they whispered across her face.

She made a move to get up, but my hands flashed to her face, to keep her there. "Just one more thing," I said.

With one last look at her, I internally shrugged and then reached my face upward until my lips connected with hers. She gasped a little; I smiled. She leaned down to make it easier for me — to my surprise, she was kissing me back.

"I guess that's one thing you aren't too bad at," she said when she pulled away, but, no matter how arrogant and indifferent her words were, she couldn't hide the small smile or blush.

She moved to a sitting position next to me, and I sat up as well. It had begun to snow faster, and her hair was covered in it. "Anytime, Greengrass," I told her, smirking.

"As far as annoying pureblood parties go, this one wasn't all that bad," she said solemnly.

"Do I have to kiss you again to make you admit you enjoyed it?" I responded, leaning in closer to her.

She leaned farther away from me. "I meant because of the snow, not your kiss," she told me primly.

I laughed. "Honestly, I didn't really mind it either."

"Because of me?"

"You're flattering yourself. You had nothing to do with it."

"Nothing to do with it, hm?" she said, the old arrogant look coming back. "Well, in that case, I suppose I'll just go back inside…"

She stood up to leave, and began to walk inside, glancing back at me smugly. She was just expecting me to follow her, wasn't she? But instead I stayed in my place, waiting for her to turn around. But she didn't, and my front door closed behind her.

After about three second I stood up to follow her, not because she was all that amazing, but because it was just boring without her. The second I tried to open it, someone from the inside opened it too, nearly hitting me.

Astoria's face appeared through the opening, and she laughed at my startled expression. "I knew you'd follow me," she teased.

"I knew you'd come back," I clarified.

Was that the first time I'd heard her laugh? Was this truly the first night I'd seen her? It felt like I'd known her for years — and like I would know her for years. In a gesture unexpected even to me, I pulled her against me, and hugged her. She stood stiffly for a moment, and then hugged me back.

"I guess I didn't want you to leave," I admitted so softly I almost wished she couldn't hear. But I knew she did.

"I won't," she said, her voice still solemn.

I don't know how long we stood there. It could have been minutes, hours, days, or even forever. For the first time, I found someone I was truly comfortable with, and I wasn't about to let her get away.


End file.
